The Cock Strikes Midnight
by snowyabyss
Summary: ChaosTheory discovers the curse of Moon Guard's Lion's Pride Inn. Written for CT by Snowy. Warning; suggestive content, languages and whatnot.


_**The Cock Strikes Midnight**_

Characters: Slinky - Tar - Gal - Red - Mulk - Raiden - Snowy (Briefly)

_Written for the best fucking guild ever to grace WoW. Keep it Chaotic, ChaosTheory._

_ ~Snowy Abyss, former Old Chaos_

_**Warning:**__ This story is borderline adult only. No fully described scenes, but highly suggestive and whatnot. Also, cussing and blood and shit. Fuck off, Red. Also, ChaosTheory, if you know these characters, prepare to have your minds fucking ruined and perspectives blown out of proportion. You're welcome._

_"Enter if you dare, adventurers… A whole new world awaits you on the other side of this portal… Simply smash the vial when you are ready to return..." spoke the Hooded Figure, a bony hand gesturing in the slightest of ways towards the large portal. The diverse group of adventurers looked to each other, some grimacing, others smiling with glee as they stepped forward. Weapons in hand, they entered, ignorant to the feminine smile flashing beneath the blackened hood. _

The plated crusader glanced at the sky, noting the setting sun calmly. _I have to hurry,_ he thought. _They'll emerge soon enough. I'll be damned if I'm caught in that fuckfest. _Spurring his majestic steed onward, his tabard flapped with the wind, the silver colors marking him as one of the Argent Crusaders, fresh from his tour in Northrend. Turning his eyes back to the road, he jumped in alarm as he pulled upon the reins of his mount. The Argent Warhorse reared back, whinnying out into the early night.

Dismounting his horse, the crusader drew his blade as he approached what seemed to be wreckage in the midst of the road. His heart thumped in his chest, seemingly bouncing off of the chainmail that protected his fragile skin. Each boot graced the ground with a _thud_ as the forest of Elwynn seemingly quieted around him.

The wreckage smoked and crackled, smoke rising from the flames of what seemed to formerly have been a wooden cart of sorts. Scorch marks left ash on the stone road, becoming seemingly the only remnants of whatever sort of arcane magic had occurred here. Well, except for the pile of corpses in the middle of them.

Wait, corpses? _Shit! _The Argent Crusader threw his blade to the side, rushing forward to examine what seemed to be men and women of the Alliance. Reaching forward, he jabbed a human in the side with an armored finger, testing for reactions. The human groaned out, and sat up, resting atop the pile like a king atop his throne.

_Survivors! Maybe they aren't all dead!_ The crusader grinned beneath his helm, and clasped the human's hand with his own, pulling him off and steadying him. When the human man had regained his balance, the crusader shook his hand.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, you lucky bastard!" spoke the crusader, to which the other human groaned. "Name's Duskanor. Let's see if we can get you and your friends up to speed before all of you are caught in a major fuckfest."

The man shook his head, clearing his eyes of blurry stars before stretching and checking himself for injuries. As Duskanor reached for the next groaning survivor in the pile of bodies, he fully examined the new stranger. Clad in full plate as well, he stood tall and proud, emanating strength and courage, oddly confident despite the circumstances. _He must be the leader of the group,_ Duskanor decided. The man stretched his aching muscles, adapting to the new conditions, oddly ignoring the burden of his armor. The armor was rather bulky, glowing an odd deathly blue with strange runic markings upon it. Duskanor noted it as Death Knight runes immediately, and suddenly wished he hadn't tossed his only weapon. However, he relaxed as he looked into the man's eyes, and saw no hint of undeath; only dark brown retinas glaring back, challenging. However, there was no aura of light around this man either, meaning he could only be one thing. _A warrior, huh? Makes sense, I suppose._

The Argent Crusader pulled the next survivor from the pile, grasping a softer feminine hand instead. However, this one was plated as well. He pulled a Draenei woman from the pile, her armor shining similarly with that odd blue glow. Her hooves hit the ground with a solid _clop_, and she looked into her helper's eyes. She did indeed have the taint of undeath in her eyes, except her face formed together to create a somehow playful visage, despite the aura of death coming from her. It was thoroughly calming and unsettling at the same time. She walked a few feet forward before suddenly stumbling, breaking some of the remnants of the wooden cart with her fall. She called out a quick apology as she pulled herself up, a silly grin on her face. The warrior rested his face in his palm, apparently used to this behavior.

The next in the pile was a male Worgen, and a decently large one too. He jumped up by himself, quite apparently eager to make his mark on the world… or a tree. He ran off into the nearby woods, howling in relief as the sound of liquid hitting a solid surface was heard by the whole forest. Duskanor managed to get a glimpse of him before he ran off, however, and was able to conclude that he, too, was a Death Knight. _This group seems to be getting stranger by the second…_

A male hand shot up and grabbed Dusk's, but as he pulled him up, the stranger arose with an unnatural grace. His eyes shone in the near-darkness as he realized he was in a forest, glad to be in a natural setting. Duskanor cocked a brow, and examined the stranger with a criticizing eye. Clad in leather armor with the occasional leaf or two; this Night Elf was clearly a druid. The druid crouched suddenly, and holding his hand over a small gash on his leg, the flesh mended nearly instantly, revealing him to be a healer. He threw a glance at the crusader before tending to the draenei and human.

The last, but certainly not least in the pile seemed to be a human paladin, clad in righteous gear, as if to deliver a final judgment to his enemies before striking them down. Dusk grinned in finding someone with ideals akin to his own, and as he reached down to help the paladin up, he blinked, and found the paladin holding his arm very tightly, his plated facemask inches from Dusk's. The strange paladin spoke.

"You have really nice arms… nice and large… mmm…" he slid his hands up and down Dusk's arm in the moment he had before Duskanor withdrew his arm frantically, feeling slightly violated by the strange paladin. He was definitely not a paladin that followed Dusk's ideals. The paladin stood up, his Judgment armor lined with red and gold, standing majestically, yet throwing glances at everyone as if he was choosing his next prey to hunt.

Duskanor stepped a few paces back, before being bowled over as the Worgen tackled through him and jumped on the draenei. The crusader readjusted his helmet as he picked himself up, to find the group of adventurers paired together. The Human Warrior, the Draenei Death Knight, the Worgen Death Knight, the Night Elf Druid, and the Human Paladin. _That is, if he is human. That fucking paladin is strange enough as is._ They seemed to strike a group pose, all looking at each other happily. It was then that Duskanor noticed they all bore the same tabard, with an odd symbol splayed across the middle amidst the red and gold. He didn't even know how to describe it. Actually, he was at a loss for words.

Dusting his own tabard off, the Argent glanced around, frowning as he realized his warhorse was missing. He'd have to hoof it to Stormwind on foot, unfortunately. Glancing up at the sun, he realized he was going to be late, and in potential danger. Running off to the side of the road, he grabbed his blade, drew his shield, and began to run down the road, heading to the bastion of humanity, and the Alliance. As he moved, he shouted over his shoulder, **"Do not go to Goldshire! It is not safe!"**

The group of adventurers glanced over at him as he yelled, but a seemingly convenient gust of wind blew in at just the right moment. All they heard was, "**…go to Goldshire! It is… safe!"**

He left them near the source of evil itself, on a strange world similar to their own, without an idea of what was horribly wrong with this new dimension. In a few words, he left them to their doom in an effort to save his own ass.

The group trudged down the road, awed by their surroundings. They'd seen it all before; what amazed them was the fact that it looked so similar to their own Elwynn Forest. It seemed to be a perfect photo copy; every tiny detail was exactly the same. The trees, the paths… everything! Well, everything except the sound. To be specific, there was no sound from the forest. Only the footsteps of the party as they adventured onward.

The human warrior spoke up. "Does it sound quiet to anyone else, or am I just running low on ramen power?" One of his hands subconsciously reached up to grasp the handle of one of the blades stowed upon his back.

"I don't know, Tar! I've never trusted my hearing, especially after being pushed down so many stairs, y'know?" the Draenei spouted out happily as she seemingly skipped onward, an ever grinning smile plastered all over her face.

"Slinky, you know falling down stairs isn't safe." The Worgen managed to grunt out as he tried to stay behind the Draenei, ready to catch her if she fell at all. He glanced over his shoulder at the quiet druid, who seemed to be trudging along at his own pace. "What do you think, Gal?"

The Night Elf druid simply shrugged back at Mulk, and seemed to not give a single fuck about the petty discussion. He was too busy keeping an eye on the paladin who seemed to be trying to get a handful of everybody when they weren't looking. Catching his eye, the druid looked away hurriedly, shaken by the masked stare of the harassing paladin.

"Red, leave Gal alone, alright? He's quiet enough without you trying to molest him every five minutes." Tar said, glancing back at the unfortunate druid. Tar stopped for a moment, thinking hard, which wasn't one of his best skills. "Wait… aren't we missing the new guy…? What was his name…" The armored warrior glanced back at the rest of the group, and finally noticed a missing red shirt wearing monk.

Before Tar had the chance to say something, Red glanced forward at him, smiling beneath his mask. "Oh, Tar! You just want my affectionate touches, don't you! C'mere you!" The paladin lunged forward, trying to hug Tar before receiving an armored boot to the facemask and falling flat on his ass. Tar trudged straight on, spotting the inn in the distance.

As they approached the inn, voices emanating from its depths became louder and clearer. At first, it sounded as if they were having one hell of a party in there. Loud music could be heard blaring through the inn's walls, and lights seemed to be flashing in the immediate area around the inn. A squeal could be heard from Slinky as she heard the potential fun inside, and the same could be said for Red, but in a stranger manner of fun.

As they rounded the bend, the small party caught sight of the front of the inn. The first thing they noticed was the naked Night Elf woman leashed to the horse rail with a fake tail emerging from Light knows where. One of the windows was open, and the air was filled with a loud moaning or groaning; it was impossible to tell the difference. Tar experimentally flexed his fingers, suddenly uncomfortable in his new environment.

However, seemingly unfazed, the group moved on. Red seemed to grow that much antsier by the minute, which was never a good sign. Something horrible was coming. Very, very horrible.

As they entered the inn, every single one of their jaws slammed against the floor. However, this was for… varying reasons. None of them knew the true nature of the inn, but their first impression was quite literally mind blowing. Surrounding them was a huge celebratory orgy of debauchery and heresy to the Light. Men and women of every race and kind were getting it on inside the inn, and sometimes, the participants were not man nor woman, but both. There were naked women dancing on tables, 'servicing' guests while barmaids moved across the room, serving drinks and selling other sorts of personal services to the patrons. In the far back, there was what was presumed to be a kitchen of some kind, as the barmaids seemed to enter and leave the small room. Food, drinks, and fun galore. This… This was the realm Moon Guard's Lion's Pride Inn.

Tar, the seasoned warrior, excelling at fighting Horde, whether it be on Alliance or Horde lands, was completely and utterly shocked. He cared not for the raw debauchery and sex surrounding him, the bare attractive women, the musk of the room, or anything, really. What he was focused on was the smell of the food coming from the back room. His stomach grumbled uncontrollably as he floated towards the rear of the inn, drawn to the smell of potential ramen.

Slinky didn't see the full state of orgy going on; instead, she saw a huge bash of people that she could have fun with! Ignoring the state of sexual bliss seemingly everywhere in the inn, she bounced off the walls, mind filled with endless potential of ideas for fun she could have! This inn was created for her, and was hers for the taking! And, by the Varian's beard, _stairs!_ She almost fainted from pure joy.

Mulk was entranced by the full mobility of everything in the room. For years, he had been afflicted with sudden, random states of paralysis, yet here he was! In an inn where nothing ever stopped moving except to sleep, and he highly doubted anything slept peacefully while it rested within the thin walls of the inn. The full blown movement of the building just excited him beyond belief! Everyone thrusting or moving in some way! He almost belonged here!

Red was the only one that truly appreciated the horror of the room. He saw opportunity for every man and woman in the room. Only he, the strangest of the strange, could take this potential and turn it into something amazing. And that was exactly what he planned to do. Jumping right into the fray, he was out of sight immediately. (The author is not exactly sure if he is actually in control of Red's outcome; the crazy bastard seemed to disappear by his lonesome, leaving the author completely confused and out of his mind. Poor bastard.)

Gal, on the complete other fucking hand, was completely lost in the room before him. Nothing appealed to him. Everything was horrendous. People were fucking left and right! He didn't belong here! He needed out! But he couldn't leave his friends. Sprinting across the room, he threw a bag of gold on the barkeep's counter, took a key to one of the rooms, and morphed into cat form as he barged upstairs and into the safety of the room, knocking over many patrons in the process. Turning into a bear, he picked up the few orgy partners in the room and tossed them outside, locking the door behind him. He returned to his humanoid form and sat against the wall, entering a fetal position. He did not like this new place.

Tar happily slurped away as he nomnom'd the fuck out of his fresh ramen. He'd asked for the largest bowl available, and he hadn't been disappointed. It was basically the size of his torso, and he couldn't be happier. He'd placed it right on the floor of the kitchen, and jumped right in. The chef was nearby, wiping his hands with a towel, eying Tar as he slurped down inhuman amounts of ramen. However, the chef was not perturbed or disturbed in any sense; he'd seen stranger, and frankly, he was glad someone was actually eating it instead of fucking in it. It was a welcome sight.

He eyed the stairs descending to the basement nearby, and questioned the chef about it. The chef only chuckled with a gleam in his eyes, uttering the words, "It's only worse, or better, depending on your view, than the main room." Tar shrugged, and decided it was best to keep out of there.

The Warrior could hear Slinky bouncing off the walls nearby, but he paid her no mind. Red was probably having the time of his life in the room behind him. Gal was most likely hiding somewhere, and Mulk was possibly attempting to follow Slinky as she flew about the area. They were still missing somebody…

And at that exact moment, the red shirt-wearing monk decided to run into the room, breathing a great sigh in relief. "I've found you, Tar! Finally! Thank the Light!" Raiden doubled over, panting heavily. "I've searched everywhere! I think I saw Red in the middle of that… orgy! Oh, by the Bronzebeard's name, that was a long run…"

Tar stopped slurping, opening his mouth to reply before he was interrupted. Interrupted by the Stormwind tower off in the distance, chiming the time. Twelve rings signaled that it was midnight. The height of darkness had come to Lion's Pride Inn. There was no escape from hell.

The chef behind Raiden turned his head systematically to his presented rear, and began to twitch uncontrollably. Ramen dropped out of Tar's mouth as the chef's facial features began to transform, becoming a blur as the flesh and bone shifted, creating a much more feminine, much less grizzled visage. In fact, it was rather attractive. The odd thing was, he, or rather she, was no longer human. Her feet had forgone toes and the general shape in exchange for hooves. Her legs deformed into Draenei legs, and her skin turned a pale blue. Her eyes lost its milky white human color, her retinas disappeared, and collectively, it became a light purple. It had lost all sense of humanity, and gained a strange Draenei look. All in all, it looked exactly like a normal, Draenei woman.

That is, except for one small detail. Or rather large, depending on your perspective. There was a rather huge… how do I put this… bulge in the crotch area of the chef's leggings. Tar dropped his fork into his ramen as Raiden's pain-filled shriek entered into the air. Before his very eyes, as Raiden was forced into an unwanted act, Raiden's body began to change, just as the chef's had. His voice heightened in pitch, becoming extremely feminine as his groans became moans. He was becoming one of the Draenei. Tar jumped forward, knocking over his bowl of ramen, bringing a tear to his eye as he swung a leg around, the blow landing directly into the chef's back. The power of the blow forced the two Draenei _lovers_ over the railing and down into the basement, tumbling down the staircase as they went. Picking himself up, he checked the staircase. They weren't getting up.

Slinky chose that exact moment to slide in, screaming "HI TAR!" as she entered the room. Unfortunately, Slinky did _not_ see the spilled ramen, and managed to slip on the juices, flying over the railing and following the other Draenei down into the basement. Tar was about to jump in after her, but then Red's fury filled roar entered his ears. _Slinky's fine_, he thought. _She falls down stairs all of the time anyway._

Running back into the main forum of the inn, he was greeted by an odd sight. The debauchery had ended (mostly; there were a few Draenei here and there having fun), and all of the patrons had turned into Draenei, or were in the process of being turned into Draenei. Red was off in one corner, weaponless against the advancing army of futa Draenei, their tools hanging heavily and ready to ruin somebody's day. Or possibly make, depending on the viewpoint. He was using his holy powers to keep them at bay for now, but he couldn't last. In another corner was Mulk, tearing one of the Draenei in half with his bare claws, blood splattering the walls. Roaring in defiance, the Worgen jumped into the crowd of Draenei, raising an army of ghouls to fight the swarm as he began his assault.

Tar pulled a two handed sword off his back and tossed it across the room, embedding itself in the back of one of the frontline Draenei advancing on Red. Red gratefully took up the blade and screamed out, "I'm always on top, you fucking whores!" as he charged into the fray, holy light blasting the futas to pieces.

Tar charged into one of the advancing Draenei, knocking it and the few behind it down as he heroically leaped off her falling body and into the midst of many. His landing crushed one, her skull cracking under his armored boot as he pulled both of his remaining two handers out. With a scream of rage, he spun in a furious Bladestorm. His blades spun, backed by his muscles, they cut through tissue and bone alike, leaving a pool of dead Draenei and blood around him. Across the room, Red shined in a beam of light as his Inquisition began, his Guardian of Ancient Kings behind him, covering his ass, both literally and figuratively. He spun in a Divine Storm, cutting many Draenei off at the halfway point. Mulk's army had fallen, but he threw up a circle of Death and Decay, causing the futas in the immediate area to grow old and wither, bodies crumpling to the floor. The battle raged on downstairs, the unending Draenei pressing in upon the unsuspecting adventurers.

Upstairs, the Draenei were pounding against the locked door as Gal blockaded the entrance with any furniture he could find. Accessing his bear form abilities, he easily secured the doorway, standing back proudly at his work. However, even a barricade of a dresser, a table, two chairs, and the whole fucking bed couldn't stand against the Draenei outside. Soon enough, they shattered the door, arms reaching through the holes in the furniture, reaching for the healer.

Gal knew he was no use in a close combat fight. Therefore, he pressed the advantage while he could, switching into his Boomkin form and blasting away at the pressing Draenei with spells. His natural spells neutralized the threats efficiently to his happiness, until a Draenei bust through the second floor window and quickly advanced on him.

Backing into a corner, he quickly transformed into a cat, and readied his claws. The advancing futa had an odd smile on her face as it approached her prey, eager to use him in many pleasurable ways. Dashing forward, he raked his claws across her leg, slicing through her left leg completely, dropping her onto her knee in an anguished cry. Pouncing on her back, he dug his teeth into the soft skin covering her spinal column, and tore it right out of her. Her limp body ceased its movement on the floor as he spit out the horrid taste. He was no killer; he was a healer.

However, there was no respite. More had come through the window, and three of them had swarmed him and pinned him on the bed. The largest one approached him from his rear end, commanding the other two ladies to hold him down as she readied herself.

Tar knew that this was an uphill battle, and that there was no end to them. That was his instinct, and his instinct kept him alive in battle, despite his endless fury. Shouting to Red and Mulk to hold as long as they could, he charged through the masses and up the stairs, knocking over many as Gal had earlier, and spotted the barricade before the door, as well as the fleshy mass of eagerly horny futas prying at it. They broke through just as Tar arrived, and swarmed into the room. Past them all, he saw Gal about to be turned, and charged in, knocking over most of them, and impaling the one about to turn Gal with his blades. He cleaved her in two with a clean flick of the wrists. Spinning around, his blades flew in a Bloodlust as he cleaved many of the Draenei quickly.

Gal decided he was not completely useless, and transformed into a bear and jumped into the fray. He swept his claws back and forth, cutting some and knocking back many with the pure force of his swings. Just like downstairs, however, there was no end. They kept coming. They had to get out, run, leave, anything! In a pause of combat, he turned to Tar, and then hurriedly glanced at the window. Tar nodded understandingly. Gal leapt across the room and took flight form, becoming airborne and flying out, off towards Stormwind, leaving the others to their fates. He had to find help.

At least, Tar hoped he'd find help. Either way, they were waiting for his blades! Dashing left and right, his blades lashed forth, cutting down any challenger that thought they could take him. Turns out, all of them did.

Meanwhile, Red and Mulk fought for their manhood downstairs. They didn't have the battle prowess of a warrior, but both knew that they were being overwhelmed. Red managed to shout to Mulk over the heat of combat and passion.

"Mulk! We need to get out of here! Find a way out! I'll see you outside!" Red raised his voice, chanting a Blessing of Might upon any who would appear friendly as he began his push to the door. His Crusader Strikes cut down any who stood in his path, and occasionally he would slam the ground with a Hammer of the Righteous to clear the immediate area. His mind was filled with wrath; a stark contrast to his earlier mindset of bliss and relief. That is the magic of Pornshire, after all. It changes the mind.

As Red pressed onward to the door, his Judgment fell upon his enemies, the Light blessing his attacks as he cut through cleanly, nearly to the door. As he turned the corner to the front door, he met a frightening sight. There were hundreds. In his moment of awe at the sheer numbers, they surged in from both sides, overwhelming him instantly.

Mulk heard Red's cries of anguish as he fought back, clearly fatiguing. He boiled the blood of the nearby futas, as well as plaguing them with horrible curses and whatnot. However, he too would soon be overwhelmed if he did not acting. Snarling, he dove through the nearby window, landing into a roll and keeping his momentum as he leapt forward, cutting a Draenei in half with his runed blade. Activating his animalistic instincts, he began to run wild, running out into the woods, clearing the inn's radius rather quickly. Growling to himself, he prepared to leap over a coming boulder, only to find his legs locking. Shocked, his eyes widened as he understood what was happening. His multiple sclerosis kicked in, effectively knocking out the lower half of his body. He tumbled into a ball and slammed into the boulder, cracking a rib or two. Shaking his head to clear his vision, he pressed his back against the boulder as he tried to get his legs to work for him once more. He spotted the purple-blue mass of futas approaching, and hurried his attempts, desperate for feeling in his legs. It was of no use.

He readied himself for his last stand. They approached, and he flung a death coil at one, the lifeless body dropping immediately to the ground. He threw out any ranged spells he had, attempting to delay their inevitable advance. They kept coming. They came within melee range, and he swiped with the sword in his right claw, and just using his claws on his left. He called upon all of his Death Knight abilities, but to no avail. They overwhelmed him. He howled into the night as his turning began.

Tar fought on, his fury fueling his attacks as he pressed onward. Body after body hit the floor, an unending horde against endless fury. However, despite his renowned fury and cleaving attacks, Tar needed to get the fuck out. However, he didn't know what happened to Slinky. He'd heard Red's cries, as well as Mulk's, but Slinky was still missing. Pushing energy forward, he strove forth, cutting a path through the futas, their hands and other appendages reaching forward to grasp at him before being ruthlessly separated from their host body. He pressed down the stairs, once again leaping into the fray and shouting with might. His throat felt parched and his voice strained, but he pressed on.

He reached the kitchen and quickly threw some burning logs in front of the door to slow them down. Running downstairs while fanning his burning hands, he came across quite the sight. Draenei bodies lay about all around the basement with an odd selection of 'toys', some embedded. Stains splattered the walls, leaving only one Draenei standing in the middle of the room, wearing familiar Death Knight armor. Tar cautiously approached, weapons ready in case of emergency. Tapping the figure on the shoulder with the tip of a blade, he raised his hand, preparing to strike.

Slinky turned around, and jumped on Tar, giving him a tight hug. "Tar! I found you! I had to deal with all of these things, but I found you! Oh my god, did you see me fall down those stairs! So much fun!" she squealed into his ear painfully.

Grimacing, yet grinning, Tar dropped his blades as he hugged her back, before reaching into a bag and drawing out the Return Vial. "Slinky, this'll get us back. We need to get back to our world and tell them what's happened! They spilled my ramen! Do you understand how serious this is?!" He nearly screamed at the young Draenei. The adrenaline was still pulsing through him, and it almost felt like there was a weight pressing down on him. Particularly near his abdomen.

Glancing down, his eyes widened. _Shit._ She pressed her new appendage against him. Slinky grabbed the Return Vial from his hand as she pushed him into the group of advancing futa Draenei, leaving him useless, for warriors are horrible when disarmed. Giggling to herself, she threw the Return Vial at the wall of the basement, opening a portal to Drak'thul. Glancing back at Tar, she smiled oddly, before stepping through.

She stepped through the portal and promptly closed it behind her. Wouldn't want any of those things following through. She dusted herself off, smiling as she stood outside of the Lion's Pride Inn. A familiar face ran out the front door.

"Slinky? Is that you? Where have you been? Where is everyone else?"

"Oh, Ellie, that's a long story. But hey! I've got a new title to show you! Just follow me…"

Slinky led the naïve girl into the tavern, ready to show her the new title. She hoped she'd enjoy…

_Slinky the Kinky_


End file.
